


Domestic Trouble

by MiladyPheonix



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:50:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyPheonix/pseuds/MiladyPheonix
Summary: Based on the Tumblr prompt: Sherlock and John alone in the flat, relaxing, talking, reading, drinking tea. John doesn’t have to go to work, Sherlock just finished solving a case. They are sitting in front of each other on their chairs, they are both just… happy. Colourfulwatson





	1. Domestic Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> There's a song in the fic but its not a song fic if that makes sense. The song is Take Me to Church by Hozier with the lyrics adjusted to male for romantic reasons of course. It's been stuck in my head for days so I decided to give it to our gents.

Sherlock loved to watch his John cook; Captain Watson cooked too but only solid utilitarian meals and only when Sherlock had bickered about eating, his John though, John cooked with care and love. Sherlock used to have to pretend to be on his phone while he watched John but his carefully chosen titanium ring now gleamed on John’s finger and they had drunkenly agreed on their honeymoon that husbands had Ogling rights and were permitted to stare in an appreciative or even salacious manner in appropriate company.

Fortunately for Sherlock he was his own best company for the salacious appreciation of John Watson-Holmes and John really truly did enjoy being appreciated, so he was busy chuckling to himself over the appreciation they had enjoyed on the stairs last night when a dishcloth flopped onto his grinning face. “Yes, it was a spectacular shag. You’ve been staring at the stairs for the last two minutes came here and help me instead.”

Huffing a sigh Sherlock twirled the cloth as he entered the kitchen and flicked it playfully at John’s bum. John dodged neatly as he had become well used to his husband's boarding school antics since they got together and nodded at a few onions he was planning on prepping last. “They’re not going to dice themselves I suppose, pity” Sherlock swapped his dish cloth for the longer of the aprons on the door and got a stinging smack on his own bum as he was reaching for a knife. John’s hand settled possessively on impact warmed skin and he gave that delectable bum a squeeze before returning to seasoning the lamb. One Point to John but Sherlock recovered quite well as he diced and after he slid the onion into the pot he pressed himself against John as John was browning the meat, smearing kisses and sucking quietly at the pulse in his throat. “If dinner gets burned it’s your own fault" John stifled a groan so Sherlock wrapped his long fingers around John’s left hand to help him turn the lamb shanks, pressing kisses to John’s ears and temples instead. Broth, wine, and a medley of veggies found its way into the pot by some miracle and John made mash potatoes while Sherlock pecked kisses onto bits of John he felt needed attention, like his responsive neck, his broad shoulders, and his scar.

Sherlock had made a habit of worshiping John’s scar because he loathed that John felt self-conscious about it. Sherlock hated what it had cost John but loves it because it brought John to him so he adores it whenever it makes an appearance in the flat; or in an A&E or the fitting rooms at his tailors, swimming pools, beaches while on holiday… You get the point, not that he loves the rest of John any less, of course.

Dinner was served at their desk which Sherlock cleared and set after John chased him out of the kitchen claiming one last kiss from his beloved distraction. The candle got lit with a quiet smile and Sherlock stood aside to show his efforts to John as he plated their meals. “Lovely" John smiled at the mismatched place settings, “Lovely" John kissed his lovely partner before setting down the plates and himself. “Lovely” Sherlock returned as he savoured the aromas of merlot and garlic under his nose. “Lovely" “Lovely” “Lovely” then dissolving into giggles they started to eat.

…

“Nope" A long arm insistently claimed John’s hips as they shifted off the bed the next morning. “Loo" The arm unlatched itself retreating under the covers. “Mine" A deep voice rumbled back as he made his way to do the necessary, returning he deposited an extra blanket on the pile and let himself be wrapped up by those insistent limbs. There all yours” John whispered into dark curls and Sherlock almost purred. John is not working today and Sherlock has just closed a lucrative private case so they silently agreed to spend the day in bed although a protest roused them just after 11am. John's tummy was missing the usually timely breakfast it enjoyed and was subsequently making some demands known. “Speedys” Sherlock mumbled while his own belly rallied to Johns’ cries and one arm claimed John, this time before he could even shift in the bed, while the other hand texted. John’s voice was protesting now.

“We can’t just stay in bed Lovely, we need to collect" But Sherlock was rummaging through his bedside table and slapped a few pounds down before reclaiming his husband. “Delivery to the bedroom. You utterly wonderful nutter!" One Point to Sherlock and sure enough about 15 minutes and a fair bit of snogging later Speedys senior waiter popped into their bedroom over Mrs Hudson's scolding, dropped a few boxes and collected a large tip. Grinning at his lunatic husband as Sherlock unpacked a truly enormous order John had to agree with their landlady, it wasn’t decent at all but a good English fry up didn’t need decency it just needed… “Tea for you John" And a hot polystyrene cup was pressed to his hands, English breakfast. Perfect. “You are perfect you madman, just perfect" John announced tucking in.

Breakfast had been followed by more sleep though John’s teeshirt had mysteriously vanished when Sherlock had pulled it off him and chucked it randomly under the bed. No protest woke them this time; simple science has proven that two bodies will move closer together. “Gravitation pull” Sherlock claimed grinning as he tucked himself more tightly around his John. “That only applies to planets ‘Lock." “You are my whole world.” John was grinning like an idiot but he didn’t care, they had been through enough to allow idiotic grins as he traced the fading network of scars on his husband’s back, reminding himself to kiss each and everyone in reply to Sherlock’s decadent attention to his shoulder yesterday.

After a few hours of sloth and snogging Sherlock claimed the shower while John went to toss the take away containers and make more tea. He was heading back to the bedroom with two steaming mugs when a steaming, pink, warm, and utter delicious Sherlock emerged into the passage to give him an enticing show on route into the bedroom, John decided his delicious man needed a delicious meal for the evening… Just for being so very delicious of course. “Dinner?” was met with a still nude “In bed?” and John smiled. “No, out. I want to show off tonight, a nice restaurant with stunning food where the most delicious thing there will be you” John loved to exaggerate and Sherlock would have protested but gentle kisses were being littered over his scarred back and he leaned into his husband with a sigh. “Dinner, yes but I’ll be the envied one, I have you".

Sherlock had been working on his blog in bed that afternoon when a smooth tenor tickled his ear from the bathroom.

_“My lover's got humour. He's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval. I should've worshipped him sooner. “_

If John was singing tonight would definitely be a good evening so Sherlock finished up with his blog and snagging the Strad from the lounge, settled in the passage to play along with John.

_“My church offers no absolutes, He tells me, "Worship in the bedroom." The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you.”_

John was singing to himself when a violin caught his attention, the Strad! His mad husband was in the passage accompanying his impromptu solo, finishing up quickly he shut down the water and opened the door. Yes, there was a dressing-gowned but otherwise naked Sherlock swaying his way through the melody of the chorus. He led them to the lounge and John followed his pied piper without a thought to wet floors or anything else really, the music wound to a close with the chorus and a then panther purred in his ear

_“If I'm a pagan of the good times My lover's the sunlight. To keep the Goddess on my side She demands a sacrifice._ _Drain the whole sea, Get something shiny. Something meaty for the main course That's a fine-looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful That looks tasty. That looks plenty. This is hungry work.”_

His lover's voice ran like velvet down his spine and John felt his toes curling as Sherlock linked their hands and pulled him into the lazy circles of a dance, naked in the living room. John was grateful for curtains, locks, and the beautiful mad crazy amazing man in his arms. “Starving" He breathed into Sherlock’s ear as his song wound down. “Clothes” Sherlock quipped and they both burst out laughing before Mrs Hudson called a greeting which sent them dashing back to the room.

Sherlock was watching John watch him dress when an idea came to his mind, reaching into the back of his cupboard he pulled out the satin jacket he had worn at Christmas and changed out his white shirt for a charcoal one of a slightly higher silk blend.

“You’re going to be a handful tonight aren't you?” John almost protested but he was smiling, his lovely Sherlock, the little shit, knew how much John loved that jacket. He'd barely been able to behave himself over the Christmas party and they hadn’t even made it to the bedroom when they got home.

Sherlock was basking in the heat of John’s gaze as those clever surgeon's hands smoothed his lapels before sliding around his waist to, once again, settle possessively on his bum. John started as the taxi buzzed Sherlock’s phone and his own happily groping hand. “We should definitely leave now ‘Lockie or we won’t get out of this room.” John groaned into his lover's silken chest. “Having Dinner first are we?” Sherlock was still grinning when John towed him to the taxi and he was grateful John was a smaller man or he would have just hoisted “Trouble!” over his shoulder, maybe he still would.

…

Dinner had been great, Sherlock had turned heads, naturally being the beautiful man that he was and John had enjoyed smirking at the women and men that Sherlock pointed out as staring at him for a bit too long, but now they were both happy to be back in bed, Sherlock had pouted at loosing three buttons off his new favourite shirt but he could sew, John could sew, and John could in fact hoist his Trouble over his shoulder. He didn’t particularly care about buttons as he settled into those wonderfully strong arms to sleep, John went back to boring work tomorrow morning and Sherlock would not let go until then.

John held on tightly to his Trouble, it was the perfect name for Sherlock really and John loved him even more for that, trouble was perfect for him. He went back to work tomorrow and would have borrow a scarf for a few days until certain things faded. The day had been flawless and he pressed a kiss into the dark curls that pressed under his chin. Sherlock’s grip would likely leave more bruises but John was fine with that. He was happy to have mementos of this day because it wasn’t often he got a day like this; with just his Sherlock, no work, or cases, or national emergencies to make him share his lover with the outside world.

John knew that everyone considered Sherlock the jealous one but people really did not observe. The man in his arms had saved his life, died for him, killed for him. He knew he was possessive of Sherlock and it was probably a bit not good but he didn’t care. They had each other and that was all that matter.


	2. Domestic Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! It's Sherlock's birthday so John arranged a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gift fix for my dear one chained-to-the-mirror on Tumblr

John lay in bed remembering a sweet weekend and an even sweeter Sherlock. It had been weeks since they had danced and dined, long over due in his opinion. “Could you make sure you get home at a reasonable hour please Lovely. I’ve got a surprise planned for the weekend and.” A scrambling sound interrupted John who was cackling by the time his husband was back on the phone. “Did you drop your phone Love?” “No, of course not.” His barely restrained laugh wasn’t fooling Anyone so John calmly continued. “I have a surprise planned for the weekend, you know it’s your birthday, and it’s nothing extravagant but I would like you home soon please?” John had worked late that night and the previous few evenings in fact to save up hours, for a very good cause naturally. Sherlock had mentioned he’d long ceased celebrating his birthday and John was determined to fix that. 

Sherlock exhaled and ignored his flushed ears, Lestrade was watching so he needed to be calm. This would go smoothly: evidence, deduction, tedious explanation, home to John! He flew through the gore strewn room. 3 dead, but 2 killers! Oh God sentiment. “They were going to kill her husband and run away together but she had second thoughts so he kills her in a panic, the husband then kills the lover for killing his wife and dies from the injuries the murderous lover gave him. BORING! I have better places to be Lestrade. The evidence is in their phones, don’t call me!” His hasty exit made him miss how Greg grinned at his retreating back. 

Sherlock fled to the nearest Taxi and dropped £50 on the seat. “Baker street, faster than humanly possible, I have a truly fantastic man waiting in my bed!” The driver gave him a grin and floored it, John would not approve but John was not there, he was in their bed. Warm cozy John with a surprise. Tossing another tenner through the window Sherlock trotted to the front door. Mrs Hudson’s door was dark and there was a post it at the top of the stairs: “LOCK DOOR BEHIND YOU" Grinning Sherlock did so and the lounge held an unusual sight, John’s gun safe was on the table wide open. It held his oft purloined Browning, his mobile, and a post it note: “PHONE OFF & IN THE SAFE, LOCK&RETURN LOVELY, YOU KNOW THE DRILL" A small heart followed John’s shaky block capitals so Sherlock followed instructions. Carefully returning the box to it’s very secret spot… bottom of the book shelf. 

The kitchen held a plate of dinner, which went into the microwave and the post it: “THE LAPTOPS ARE BANISHED FOR A WHILE, DON’TLOOK FOR THEM. DON’T FORGET YOUR DINNER.” Sherlock patiently ate his meal while he deduced at least seven places the laptops could be, amusing himself as they got more ridiculous as he went. 

A stroll down the passage found another yellow tag on the bathroom door: “ALL YOUR CLOTHES IN THE HAMPER GORGEOUS.” Sherlock grinned as he dropped each item carefully into the hamper and showered quickly then through the last door. He was refreshed, fed, relaxed, and there was his conductor of light. John shone in the light of their bedside lamps all silverly hair and glowing golden skin. Sliding into bed his Beloved gravitated towards him, as always. A small smile settled onto Sherlock’s face because, even asleep, John pulled him closer. 

… 

John woke late the next morning with a bed-octopus curled sweetly around him, he would never figure out how Sherlock grew extra limbs in his sleep but every one of them would be wound around him by morning. “Happy Birthday Husband” A scratchy groan answered his whispered greeting. John wriggled closer somehow. “Happy staycation Lovely.” “Beloved, my Beloved.” John waited for the rest of Sherlock’s sentence but it never came, those fascinating eyes slid shut and Sherlock drifted back to sleep. 

John had planned to make breakfast in bed for him but Sherlock would wake up if he left and it’s not like they were going anywhere. His plan had worked so he decided to enjoy it. Mrs Hudson was safely to her sister, Greg had been in on it since last week as he was one of few people John knew who could hide anything from Sherlock. Molly had agreed to refuse all sample requests for a fortnight and Mycroft, Mycroft Holmes had actually proposed the media blackout when John approached him. There would be Nothing to distract them for the next three days. 

“Stop congratulating yourself John” He could hear John’s thoughts applauding themselves and he just wanted to sleep. It was his Birthday and he had his Beloved. He just needed… 

John flinched as large cold hands slid into his pants and settled on his bum. He groaned at the chilly intrusion which gave a squeeze, it felt Smug. Neither of them was awake enough for sex but clearly Sherlock had decided that he wanted nudity for his birthday, John’s nudity. He lost his pants and vest in languid strokes. “Oxytocin John" was followed by something that sounded like “youreadoctor” but he wasn’t sure. OctoLock he thought with a grin as long naked limbs arranged his own naked limbs and they both settled down to sleep. 

... 

Breakfast became lunch after a late start and a needy shag lead to a long shower. John did food prep as Sherlock cooked, sliding each component into the oven to stay warm. Unspoken agreement carried trays back to their bedroom. “Monday?” “Tuesday. I go back to work on Tuesday Lovely.” Variegated eyes lit up before more thoughts intruded. “On call?” “Nope" “Cases" “Greg’s known for a week.” “That’s why Molly!” “She can see right through you my Love but you could never get a read on her.” John grinned triumphantly before “Groceries!" “Ordered online for the next three days… It’s all sorted out Sherlock. Please, relax?” He took the languid kiss in response as agreement. Yes, they would relax. Just the two of them for the next three wonderful, fantastic, amazing days. 


End file.
